I don't greet you as I do the rest. ;I don't take you in my arms,
Or touch my lips to your face,
Touch is not enough.
When you speak I watch the dappled light
filtered green, yellow and white
through the trees as it plays
sweet across your lips.
Ah how I envy that pure light,
touching you and knowing you.
To warm your mouth with my heat
caressing your lips.
When I speak I see you look past me,
as if what I have to say
doesn't matter at all.
Why do I bother?
And you smile at your friend over there,
Laughing at some private joke.
It is none of my business.
It's over my head.
Oh but It is of no consequence,
for I do not speak the truth
These words are unimportant
I babble nonsense
I fear that you won't listen or care, ;If I tell you what I feel ;If I bare my soul to you ;You'd just turn away
Or I would take you, like the others.
That would get your attention.
Ah love but the misery
when you're done with me

Penned by my hand on the 8th of Chronos, in the year 257 AF.